When Severus Snape stumbled into Grimmauld Place shortly before midnight in Harry Potter's fifth year, he was seeing stars and his entire body was trembling in the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse. His black hair was matted to his sweaty face. He desperately needed a bed, but knew that Albus would require him first.

He stumbled through the kitchen and pulled his wand from his sleeve to summon his Patronus so that he could call upon Dumbledore. He heard footsteps behind him, and he turned on his heel dizzily and stared into the lighted wand of Hermione Granger.

"Professor Snape?" She whispdered in disbelief. She had known that Snape was an Order Member, and that he was a spy for their side, but she hadn't seen him in action, nor had she seen him so completely disheveled.

He grimaced at the sight of her, pushed a shaking hand through his hair, and grumbled, "Granger."

"Good grief, Professor, you're a mess!" She whispered. "What happened?!"

"I haven't time for this, girl. Fetch Dumbledore," He nodded toward the door as he leaned onto the back of one old wooden chair.

"He's gone back to Hogwarts for a few days..."

"Damn," Snape whispered and closed his eyes tightly as if swallowing a tremendous amount of pain. When he opened them, he glanced at his wand and took a steadying breath. Stepping back from the chair, he pointed his wand at the floor, "Expecto Patronum!"

From his wand burst forth a beautiful silver doe. Hermione's eyes widened at its beauty and elegance as it stared up at its master. Snape's voice was low. "I am at Grimmauld Place. I've news, but nothing urgent. Will you come tonight, or should I come to Hogwarts tomorrow?"

The doe turned from Snape, eyed Hermione for a long moment, and then galloped from the room. Hermione didn't understand why her eyes were full of tears, or why she had goosebumps all over her skin. "She's... Beautiful."

Snape said nothing as he sat heavily into the chair. Hermione's brown eyes raked over his figure. His clothing hung off of him in ways that showed he'd lost weight that he shouldn't have lost. The muscle at the corner of his jaw twitched. There were several things strange about this encounter with the foreboding Potions Professor. One: he hadn't sent her from the room. Two: something as beautiful as that doe patronus had come from Snape. Three: Someone as hyper aware as Snape didn't even seem to notice she was in the room. Then, she noticed his tremors.

Hermione moved to the counter and poured the tea she had made just before his arrival into a cup for him. It was lavender and chamomile to aid in sleep. She set the cup in front of him. His black eyes jerked to the cup and then he looked up at her with a narrowed and scrutinizing glare.

"I've not poisoned it, Professor," She said softly.

Tentatively, he brought the cup to his mouth and drank several large gulps. He was trembling quite badly. He set the cup down and ran a hand through his hair again anxiously. When he did that, she noticed blood behind his ear and she touched his hair. He jerked away from her quickly and snarled at her. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You're bleeding, sir."

He brought a pale hand behind his ear and felt the warm wetness there. Looked at it in the now softly lit kitchen, he saw that he was indeed bleeding. He grunted in response and looked away from her.

Hermione withdrew her wand, which caused his gaze to travel back toward her in nervousness. "Accio Dittany," She whispered, and caught the bottle that flew to her a moment later.

She extended the bottle out toward Snape. "You can try to do this on your own, or I can do it for you. You wouldn't be able to see it yourself," She said and shrugged.

When he frowned and looked away from her, she stood. Pointing her wand at his hair, she cleaned and smoothed it quickly with a charm she'd used a million mornings where she'd overslept. Holding his black hair back with her left hand, she dripped several drops of Dittany onto the wound, which looked like he'd hit his head quite hard.

Dittany, which usually stung quite fiercely, seemed to have no effect on him. He was stone faced as the wound began knitting itself. Seeing that he was still sweating, she cast a whispered cooling charm on him. He furrowed his brow, opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut quickly as a wave of Cruciatus aftermath wracked his thin frame. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut, but somehow remained completely silent.

Hermione's heart broke for him, and she reached for his hand before she could stop herself. Expecting him to scream at her or, at the very last, slap her hand away, she loosened her grip immediately and was surprised when he desperately gripped her small hand through the wave of pain. He let go immediately after to chastise her, but jumped when a silver Phoenix flew into the room and looked at Severus.

"I am glad you have returned safely. If it is not pressing, it can wait until morning. Rest, Severus," came Albus Dumbledore's voice. The bird disappeared.

Snape downed the tea as Hermione asked, "Professor, are there any potions I could find for you?"

"Granger..." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he struggled to stand. "Despite how it may appear at the present time, I am not one of your projects." He raised an eyebrow at her, but his face and eyes held none of their usual cold conviction.

She smirked at him. "Suit yourself."

He walked from the kitchen, pausing slightly in the doorway. "I... Appreciated your help this evening." His voice was low, and gravelly.

Shocked that he'd essentially thanked her, she smiled. "It's no trouble, Professor Snape," She said as she stood and moved to grab her tea.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He asked evenly. He truly was acting strangely. Not only hadn't he yelled at her or totally berated her, but he'd joked - mildly - and had somewhat continued a conversation.

"I've not got a curfew during summer certainly," She said as she followed him from kitchen and down the long skinny hallway. He was moving slowly, trying to conceal a heavy limp.

He silenced their footsteps as they approached that horrid portrait of Black's mother and allowed her to pass him to walk ahead of him. When she glanced behind, she saw him gripping both railings tightly as he walked gingerly up the stairs. He jerked a slender fingered hand at her in frustrated dismissal.

"Let me know if you need help," She whispered softly.

He growled a warning at her, that she was pushing the envelope of his strangeness, and her bedroom door closed behind her and he heard the lock click as he continued on down the hallway to the last bedroom on the left. His wards allowed him entranced as he summoned several pain potions. Swallowing them, he collapsed on the bed. He was dizzy, nauseous, and exhausted. Soon, the world faded to black.

"There are always sides. There is always a winner, and a loser. For every person who gets, there's someone who must give." ~ My Sister's Keeper